


Aziraphale's King

by White Queen Writes (fhartz91)



Series: Ineffable Shibari [6]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Don't copy to another site, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Implied Anxiety, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Ineffable Lovers, M/M, Post-Canon, Romance, Shibari, just the ramblings of an ineffable bdsm expert, model Crowley, non-sexual Shibari, rigger Aziraphale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:41:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23844637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fhartz91/pseuds/White%20Queen%20Writes
Summary: When anxiety strikes, Crowley needs to become nothing. Aziraphale obliges, helping him disappear ... by turning him into a relic of kings.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Ineffable Shibari [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1674700
Comments: 13
Kudos: 66





	Aziraphale's King

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ineffablecolors](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ineffablecolors/gifts).



> So, the way this started out, the flow of it, I contemplated turning it into a poem, but in the end, I think this form suited it better. So it's sort of a story in poetic form with poetry inside, if that makes sense XD Dedicated to IneffableColors since their poetry inspires me. <3 Also, objectification (as in, turning a model or sub into an object) is a big theme with me so if this seems familiar, it might just be because I write about it a lot. I wanted this to really evoke the visual artistry of bondage, and the connection between the rigger and the model.

“Aziraphale?” Crowley whispers in that softly-worn subby voice of his that never fails to grab Aziraphale’s attention, makes him warm from halo to heels with a need to nurture.

Protect.

“Yes, my dear?”

“How do you love me?”

Aziraphale chuckles fondly, checking the knots beneath his fingers to make sure their beauty holds. Not compared to his other knots.

Compared to his husband.

“Don’t you know?”

“I do,” Crowley replies. “But I like to hear you say it.”

“Well …” Aziraphale clears his throat, rolling Crowley on his side to bring the ropes around “… I’ve loved you as the night is dark/I’ve loved you before the dawn/I’ve loved you near, loved you apart/loved you as my life is long … and I don’t believe I’ll ever stop …”

Crowley chuckles. “That doesn’t rhyme, angel.”

“I can only do one thing at a time, my dear. Do you want me to rhyme, or do you want me to rig?”

“Mmm … yes. I see your point.”

Roughly 953 feet of rope.

Give or take a hundred.

That’s how much it takes to cover Crowley from the tips of his toes to the top of his head.

His hair, Aziraphale does separately - divides it into sections and braids it in long, warrior’s plaits down Crowley’s back and over his sides. The rope - 3-strand natural cotton rope - covers every inch of his skin till not a single freckle peeks out.

Even his erect cock becomes part of Aziraphale’s macrame project.

 _Quiet_ Crowley needed.

He’d told his angel through quivering lips.

Begged with chaotically shifting eyes.

Absolute silence.

Stillness.

Darkness.

To be and not to be, without any question.

So before Aziraphale rigs him, ties him in a harness and lets him hang, lets his anxieties seep away, he sheaths him in cotton - a ritual all its own since Aziraphale does it completely by hand - which harks back to their days in Egypt. Not the religious aspects, of course, as according to the Head Office, those humans worshipped false idols.

But the spiritual ones.

Respecting the soul by bringing glory to the vessel.

A transformation that would outlast the ages.

At Crowley’s request, Aziraphale turns his demon into an ornament, an object.

A centerpiece.

A nothing that represents everything Aziraphale loves and adores.

He wraps his demon like a beloved corpse, secures him in an intricately crafted web of a hundred ropes, and displays him in the center of their living room.

In pride of place.

Like a _king_.


End file.
